The Epitome of Clichés
by QueenOfEllipses
Summary: You woke up in an unfamiliar place with wounds all over? Strange. You have amnesia? That's new. You gonna try to save your favorite character from his inevitable death? Ingenious! Let's hope you remember in time.
1. A New Place

**A/N: no clue where this is headed. expect the next chapter sometime in the next one hundred years**

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><p>The first thing I heard when I woke up was a frantic, "Are you alright?!"<p>

Damn, you're really loud dude... my head is aching... What was I doing last? And where am I, exactly? Feels like concrete...

It's so loud out here...

"–-about fourteen, fifteen, maybe? He's just a kid... MY PLACE?! Nononono, I can't, what with the investigation and all... Day off? B-but, I mean, without everyone there-!"

Dude sounds like he's having problems. I'll leave him to it.

I manage to open my eyes, despite having found my eyelids to feel really heavy. I glance around to see a man on his cellphone crouching down in front of me. I see a car a little bit behind him- I'm guessing it's his- and it seems that we're on the side of a freeway. I see a sign that seems to have what looks like Japanese characters. I must be in Japan. I'm confused as to why we are here, and who this man is, but before I can question it any further, I am engulfed in darkness.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the softness of whatever it was I was laying on.

Geez, where am I now?

Unlike before, I'm able to open my eyes with ease. I feel much better than I did prior to waking up in this room, so I sit up and examine the place. A TV playing the news sat in the center of the room, a plant in the corner, a table covered in various objects next to the couch, and the couch itself, that which I am sitting on.

Dull place. How the hell did I get here?

I glance down at myself. I have bruises all over my arms and legs, and a bandage wrapped around my torso. It seems I have a band aid on my cheek, too.

Huh. Wonder where all those injuries came from... Eheheh, you're looking kinda scrawny, aren't you? ...?

As if I were a member of a clichéd drama where someone gets amnesia, I realize that I cannot remember my name. Just then, almost as per the script, the door creaked open, presumably the character who'll ask me if I remember anything that's happened the past few weeks and if I recall the fact that I'm the one who actually killed everyone. Mwahahah.

I look up and gaze at the newcomer. He looks like an average, young guy: he's wearing basic business clothes, he seems to be about standard height, and he has brown eyes and black hair that almost reached his shoulders.

"Ah, you're up! You've been out for about three hours. A-ah, are you feeling alright?"

I simply stare at the man.

"...u-uh, ah, uh, I'm sorry! Let me introduce myself first. My name's Matsuda Touta. Mind telling me yours?"

Again, I stare at him for a few seconds before shaking my head.

"Eh? Why not?" he says, tilting his head slightly.

I shrug.

"Huh? Does your throat hurt? Want me to get you a drink? Or are you not allowed to talk to strangers? Ahahah, my mom was always strict about that stuff... Oh, but hey! Don't get the wrong idea here! You walked into the middle of the street and just passed out, you see, and I almost ran you-"

"-I can't remember," I said, cutting the guy off before he went much further. My voice is really hoarse.

"Eh? Like, amnesia? That's no good! Can you remember anything at all? And how about that drink?"

I shake my head. "Nothing personal. I'd like that drink, please."

He thinks about what I said for a few moments before replying with a, "Hm... Well, let me go get a cup of water real fast," before he left the room to do just that.

I glance around the room again, as if expecting to see that something has changed. Nothing did. I look at the TV, to see it was still playing the news.

...Guess I can read Japanese... I was speaking it too, wasn't I? It came out so naturally. Yet, my thoughts are in English. I assume I'm bilingual, with English being my first language. Wonder if I can speak in any other language, like French or something... 'bonjour' and 'oui oui' and whatnot...

Anyway, who's this Kira person they're going on about?

Throughly intrigued, I continue to watch as the TV displays the number of criminals who've all died the past two weeks due to heart attacks.

...Shit.

...That's a lot.

As I look on, confused as to how one guy could kill this many people, with heart attacks, no less, the guy, Matsuda, comes back in with a glass of water and sets it on the table. He follows my confused gaze and says, "You haven't heard about Kira?"

I shake my head. I reach over for the cup, take a sip, and hum at how pleasant the cool water felt going down my throat. "So? How's he doin' it?"

"The killings? We don't know. That's what we're trying to find out."

Looking at the TV, I mutter, "Must be something different, huh?"

Matsuda looks at me with a questioning look.

"He must have an unorthodox method of mass murder," I go on, "like, drugs or poison or something."

He shakes his head. "No, the autopsies of all the victims have shown that there were no traces in any of their bodies."

...What.

I look up with wide eyes. "No poison?"

He shook his head. "Not like poison would do much. Kira can kill a person the moment they appear on TV, as long as both their name and face are shown. We think that he can control how he kills to some extent, and the time of death."

...What?

"How is that... ngg..." I clamped my hands over my ringing ears.

"Ah! Are you alright?!" Matsuda asks, concerned.

The pain subsides as quickly as it came. I stay in the same position for a moment as I think about the word that came to my mind alongside the ringing: 'Supernatural.' I lower my hands.

A supernatural way of killing? I must be crazy. I'm sure there's a more logical way as to how this freak kills.

I shake myself out of my thoughts, choosing not to voice this ridiculous idea, and I reply with a short, "I'm fine."

Matsuda looks as though he doesn't really believe me, but answers with an, "Okay. But tell me if you start to feel bad."

I nod and give him a slight smile.

"Soooooo," Matsuda says, trying to strike up conversation again, "you, uh, seem to be real interested in the Kira case. I mean, that's not bad or anything! Everyone's got their eyes on Kira! Just that," he laughs, "it's kinda funny that an amnesiac would just wake up and also become as focused on the case as everyone else!"

I hadn't noticed, but it seems I really have been fixated on what the news had been saying.

"Hm, I am," I say, mostly to myself. "It's unusual."

And, I mean, come on! It really is! I suppose I must like- liked puzzles, but really! How exactly IS this guy killing all these people with HEART ATTACKS? Why does he need a name and a face to kill? And why is he only killing criminals? I suppose Kira must have a strong sense of justice. Almost too strong. Kinda like a kid, almost. Y'know, most kids are raised thinking that 'bad people deserve bad punishments.' This usually turns into 'bad people should die' at some point, doesn't it... Most people lose that train of thought once they get in the real world, but...

Thinking this idea wasn't as stupid, I decide to say something. "Hey, wouldn't that be funny if some high schooler was doing all these killings?" I joke.

Matsuda stared at me and laughed. "That's weird! L thought the same thing! He sent FBI agents out to tail a bunch of high school students, too! You wouldn't know this, but he thought Kira was the kid of one of the Japanese police because it seemed like he had access to criminal files. Even after we proved all of the students innocent, he still believes Kira is Light! As if he would go around killing people!"

Half of that flew over my head.

"L? As in, the detective?"

Matsuda's expression held a mixture of shock and amusement. "You remember L, but you didn't know Kira?"

...Strange, they never mentioned L on the news. How did I know he's a detective?

"I guess I can remember certain things," I lie. "Who's Light?"

"Oh, Light's our chief's son. He just graduated high school, and he'll be going to college real soon. He's a really good kid, and he's helped the police with a bunch of cases in the past! No clue why L would think Light would be Kira..."

"He helped the police a bunch, huh? He must be real smart."

He nods. "Oh, yeah. Top in his class [NEED MORE RESEARCH HERE] ㈇2㈇2㈇2㈇2㈇2㈆4 ㈟1㈟0㈟1

Intelligent. Student. Probably has access to criminal files. I can see where L is getting at. Course, I don't know the guy, but I'd say someone like this could be the killer in this case, if they had the motive, means, and the capability.

"So you must work for L, right?" I ask.

He blanched.

"Uh, w-well, shoot, uh, ah, I can't, I'm not allowed to-" He's cut off by a buzz.

"Ah, uh, sorry, I gotta get this," Matsuda says, standing up and taking a cell phone out of his pocket. He answers with a, "Hello?" before walking out into another room.

I sigh as the news cuts off and moves onto a reality show.

Alone again.

I stare up at the ceiling. Time to get things straight.

I walk into the middle of a road and pass out. Matsuda, nearly running me over, gets out and takes me to his place. He wraps up all my injuries, which must have been there before I even walked out on to that street. We talk a bunch and I learn about this whole Kira business. Hmm, didn't accomplish a lot.

Let's see, now about me.

I have amnesia. I'm male. I'm... somewhere in my teens, as far as I can remember. I'm really skinny. I cannot recall my name, birthday, or where I live. I'm enthralled by the Kira case, so I can only assume that I must have had a huge love of solving puzzles and reading crime novels or something. I'm bilingual, and I seem quite fluent in Japanese with English being my first language. One would naturally think I'm from America. If that's the case, how did I end up in Japan? Seriously, how did I end up with amnesia in the first place? Where did all these wounds come from?

I am literally the fucking epitome of all things clichéd.

Cuff me now, because I bet two thousand American dollars that after failing an attempt to blow up the world, I jumped down into a waterfall, smashed my head on a rock, and lost all memories of the fact that I am the number one most wanted criminal in twelve small African countries.

At least, that's how the books go.

...Something tells me that I had no life and got all my dating advice from sappy romance movies.

Matsuda slides back into the room. I cock my head and raise an eyebrow.

"Sorry about that. Call from work. Chief says you should stay with me until we can locate any sort of missing persons notices with a picture of you. Until then," he pauses, "um, enjoy your stay?" he says unsurely with a tinge of pink on his face.

I smirk. "Take care of me, Matsuda-san."

He becomes as red as a tomato and flails his arms around. "H-hey! Don't say it like that, i-it sounds weird!" I laugh maniacally.

Might as well make the most of my stay here while I wait for someone to come look for me.

If anyone will, that is.

"Um, are you allowed to talk to me about the case?" I ask. "The stuff you were talking about wasn't mentioned on the news. Plus, I don't feel... authorized, to, eh, ah, I mean, L is, like, a real famous detective, you know? He's got a lot of power. And you work for him? That's impressive, and, uh... Plus, early when I asked if you worked for him, you started to say something about not being 'allowed to' do something..." I look at my lap. "I don't wanna get you in trouble or anything..."

He smiles. "Aw, geez, at least someone cares about me. I think it's fine. I mean, you got amnesia, and plus, it's nice to talk without someone cutting in all the time." He got quiet at that last part.

I nod. "Oh, good."

He continues. "Plus, you seem to be really into this! Maybe you can even help with the Kira case!" he laughs loudly.

"Eheh, ya think?" I scratch the back of my neck. That'd be kinda cool, actually. Helping to solve an extremely complex genocide case.

...I'm 100% positive that I had planned to become a detective when I graduated college.

"Anyway," Matsuda says, "looks like you'll be here for a while. How about we come up with a nickname for you until you remember your real name?"

A nickname...

Hm...


	2. A New Name

**A/N: Still no clue where this is headed. All I know is that I'm gonna make this kid gay for Near if it's the last thing I do. I look forward to writing chapter 69, which will never come out ever because I can't write.**

**anyway enjoy this chapter feel free to criticize i need to know how bad it was. why is it easier writing reports for english than fanfics uuuuwwwaaahhhhhhh **

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><p>I gazed at my reflection in the small compact mirror as if I were expecting the image depicted to be different from the one from thirty minutes ago. It was not.<p>

Aside from the bandages and bruises, I seem to be a pretty basic guy. I have a-little-longer-than-average shiny black hair reaching just below my shoulder. I'm really skinny, but my shoulders are somewhat broad. Right now, I'm wearing an oversized, plain light pink t-shirt and some green, plaid pajama pants Matsuda found lying around his place for me. Apparently the clothes I was wearing when he found me were covered in moderately dry blood, which doesn't make a whole lot of sense because, aside from my chest and forehead, I didn't have any open wounds, and even the ones I had were not at all that severe. I didn't have anything in my possession other than two pocket knives and a thousand yen. I seem to be a little over five feet tall or so. It's impossible to tell my heritage just by my appearance. I seem to be just your average- although pretty damn handsome, if I do say so myself- teenager, well, aside by my piercing, icy blue eyes. Didn't think eyes could get that color. They sort of stand out from the rest of me, but I don't care. It's unique, I guess. Peculiar.

"Gale? Ritsu? Kuroh? Samanosuke? Naozumi?"

This game of 'Find a nickname for the guy you know almost nothing about!' is really getting no where. First of all, nicknames are usually based on one's personality or a weird physical feature or something. What, you want my nickname be based on my eyes? Uh, yeah, no. The only personal things we've figured out so far is that I'm probably vying to be the next Professor Layton. Perhaps my nickname could be Luke. Anyway, I can't even think of anything clever, so normally, I should just accept something cool and move on. That's why I'm so confused. Each name Matsuda throws out just feels like it won't work. I suppose that's just the real me subconsciously thinking what would actually fit or not, but it's still quite strange. I really shouldn't be so picky. I wonder what all those names he's tossing mean anyway. He's saying so many so fast that I can't possibly process all the meanings.

"Kaname? Arihito? Seiko? Tetsuya? Yami?"

...shhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttt.

"Atsuya? Yukimasa? Akinobu? Norio? Miroku?"

...3...

"Shiro? Shiiyii? Nara?"

...2... Isn't Nara a girl's name?

"Ritsuka? Hinata? Chiaki?"

...1...

"Akaashi? Jiwoo? Shinra? Akiyoshi-"

"I like that one." I burst out. I couldn't pick a name, so why not just pick one at random?

"Oh, really?" Lessee... Bright? Good? Yeah, that sounds about right. I suppose bright could describe my eyes. How ironic. "That's great! I was starting to run out of names."

Akiyoshi. Akiyoshi. Akiyoshi. I stare at my reflection again and repeat that name several times. Perhaps it's not the perfect name for me, but it seems... familiar, in a way. Maybe I actually knew someone with the same name. Well, it's not a common name, actually, but whatever. I put the mirror down on my lap and sighed. Thinking back on the meanings of all those names, I notice a bunch of them had the same general meaning. I can't put in in words exactly, but several of those names meant 'honesty' or other similar things. I suppose it was a coincidence. I hope the fact that I didn't really 'feel' those names means I'm not honest or trustworthy or anything. Not like it matter now, though. Still, I wonder who I truly was before I ended up here. There are so many unanswered questions and still so many still left unasked. Why was I covered in blood? How did I end up in a busy intersection in the middle of Japan? What was my name? I mean- shit- what IS my name?

After sitting in silence for a few moments, my self-questioning subsides, and I smirk and ask, "Matsuda-san, did you just picked all those names at random?"

He blinks. "Hah, got me. B-but, saying whatever name comes to mind is easier than taking time to write a list of more fitting ones is easier, huh? Ahahahah.. B-besides, we eventually found a nickname, huh, Akiyoshi-kun!"

I just grin. I guess he was right.

I lean back and stare at the TV as it switches from a reality show over to the weather.

Damn, this whole situation is pretty shitty. Matsuda isn't bad or anything, nah. It's just that this is all pretty much out of a dumb book. I get amnesia, wake up in a strange place, get a new identity, somehow get involved with the plot, save the day, remember my dark past, et cetera et cetera. What the hell am I, the protagonist of a shitty fanfiction written by some weeaboo? I puff out what seems the be my thousandth sigh today. My exhaust and aggravation seems to have finally caught up with me. I hate being left out of the loop. I'm really tired. I want some food. I wanna take a nap. I wanna go home. I'm a whiny pissbaby.

My mind went everywhere. Was I running away from my home, which was just an apartment here in Japan, and just tripped and hit my head on a rock somewhere? Was I actually running away from the government? Did I find out a little too much about the Illuminati? Did Matsuda kidnap me?!

I quickly look over at him as he perched on a chair and watched the weather. He noticed me looking at him and glanced my way.

Nah. Nahhhh. Naw. No. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to kidnap innocent kids like me. Although, "Don't judge a book by it's cover," they say. I can vaguely recall reading a book that mentioned a women who couldn't shoot at a thirteen year old, even though he had committed many crimes. Maybe Matsuda's almost ditzy personality is a hoax. What if he's trying to lure me into a false sense of security? I need to take a rest. Maybe I'm the son of a real scary yakuza boss? I'm sleepy.

"Matsuda-san!" I screech loudly, causing him to jump. "Can I go outside!"

He looked at me with a shaken look, but replied with a, "Y...yeah? Sure, go ahead. Come back in, though. Can't have you wandering around in your current shape! I'll leave the door unlocked."

Oh. My suspicions are clear. Unless he's lined the perimeter of this apartment building with his men. He DOES work for L. What if this is just a persona, and he's kidnapped me, the young boss, for ransom?

...Did you know that lack of sleep can make you lose your wits? I was apparently out for three hours when Matsuda brought me here, but I feel like like was kind of like the nap you take right after something extreme has happened. It does not mean you'll feel fresh when you awaken, and you'll just want to go right back to sleep for another five days.

It'd look weird if I simply sat here after that burst of idiocy, so I gather myself, stand up, walk over to the door with a quick, "Be back in a few," and step out of the room into a long, beige hallway. I shut the door, repeat the room number, 104, in my head a couple of times, then walk down the hall in hopes of finding a staircase.

"I was pretty dumb back there, huh?" I giggle. I'm really fucking tired, but I guess I can last a bit longer. It's better to go to sleep at night anyway. Otherwise, I'd have an inconvenient sleeping schedule. All this thinking just drained me of whatever energy I had left.

When I turned the corner to the stairs, I swiftly ran right into a tall man with an afro. I nearly fell backwards, but I regained my balance. I back up and bow.

"I'm sorry! Pardon me!" How embarrassing.

The man smiled and looked down at me. "No, it was my fault. I should have been... eh?" His smile quickly fades and his eyes widen as if he just now realized something. He's looking at my forehead... Oh, yeah, I have bandages wrapped around it don't I?

I give a shaky grin and wave my hands out in front of me. "O-oh, that, I uh..." I'm too out of it to think of a good excuse. "I... fell down the stairs yesterday."

It was hard not wincing at that one.

The man simply laughs. "No need to lie, kid." He pulls out a badge. "Aizawa Shuichi. NPA. I work with Matsuda. He's told us about you, so I came down to check out the situation." He puts his badge back into his pocket and reaches to shakes my hand.

I nod and smile. "Nice to meet you. Uh, I can take you to his room, if you'd like?"

"Sure, thanks."

I turn right back around and head back where I came from.

"That guy really does the most random things," Aizawa says. "Never would have expected him to find a wounded kid in the middle of the road and bring him home."

I suddenly feel guilty. "Ahh, Matsuda-san won't get in trouble for this, right?" I stop.

Aizawa puts a hand on my shoulder and laughs. "Hah, no, no. If we were that strict, he'd have been fired ages ago. Seriously, that guy... Plus, it's his job to help you out. What kind of police would we be if we neglected a half-dead kid wandering the streets?"

I guess that made me feel better. I don't wanna cause any trouble. Just stay out of the way and...

_"Stay out of the way and don't do anything stupid."_

...Who just-

We nearly passed room 104. I quickly shook myself out of my thoughts, knocked on the door, and came in. Matsuda was right where I left him, but instead, he was watching the news, which looked like it just came on again. Another heart attack. Matsuda looks at me as I poked my head in.

"Akiyoshi-kun? That was quick."

I open the door. "Aizawa-san came to see you."

"Akiyoshi? Is that what you guys decided on?" Aizawa looked at me. "It fits," he says, simply.

"Ah!" Matsuda jumped up. "W-wait, hold on! The chief just said to stay and watch over him a few-!"

Aizawa cut him off. "And Ryuzaki asked me to come check on you anyway. We all know you can't handle this by yourself."

Matsuda looked down and pouted. "Is that really necessary to say...?"

Who's Ryuzaki? That sounds familiar.

Um.

Jam?

...

Why is that all that comes to mind?

"We thought about just letting him stay at the station until someone came to look for him," Aizawa went on. "You are part of the... NPA, after all." What was with that pause?

I felt flustered. "H-hey, if it's important, I'll stay at the police station! It's probably for the best, and I don't want to be a bother..!"

Matsuda steps up closer to where Aizawa and I were standing. "No, you're fine. I hear by give you permission to stay in my home for as long as needed!" he says in a loud tone.

I blanched. "Bu-but, Matsuda-san, I'm, like, a total stranger!" I wouldn't do anything bad, but...

He smiles at me, "I doubt you'd do anything wrong. Besides," he looks away, "it's nice having company. This building doesn't even allow pets, you know!"

Aizawa sniggers. "So you're going to keep Akiyoshi-san here as a pet, eh?"

Both our faces went beet red. "EHHH?"

Aizawa laughs loudly. Once he calmed down, he went on to ask, "Whew. So, seriously, you're gonna take care of him until we find his guardian?"

Matsuda nods with a prideful look on his face. "Yup! I'm buy him food and stuff for when I can't be here and leave money and we'll go get him some new clothes and-"

Another death. Another heart attack. Kira. How the hell does he do this?

_"Has the Task Force figured it out yet?"_ someone asks.

Matsuda and Aizawa looked at me. Aizawa then looked at Matsuda. He was definitely heated.

"How did you-"

"Wait, you actually told him?! Did you ever stop to think that he's fak-"

"Huh-!?"

"Did you tell him?"

Why are you fighting?

"No, I never said anything even rhyming with it! Honest! And he's not faking!"

"I bet you let it slip without realizing it. And how would you possibly know?!"

Did I say something?

"Hey, I know how important this is! And he doesn't seem to be that type of kid!"

"There's still that possibility that he could have-"

Hey. Stop. Why, what did, who, what?

"YO, STOP," I yell at the top of my lungs.

They look at me again.

Suddenly sheepish, I look at my toes. "Uh, I don't know why you guys started fighting, but can you please stop?"

Aizawa gazes down at me. "Akiyoshi-san, did Matsuda tell you about the Task Force."

"I swear I didn't!"

"Let him answ-"

"The what?"

For the third time, they look at me in unison again. A strange feeling was flying around the room.

Aizawa was the first to speak. "You just said something about the Task Force. We heard you?"

I cock my head slightly. "Did I?"

They both nod.

I look at the TV.

"Um," I bow, "I apologize, but I don't seem to recall. I guess my head is still a bit wonky, but, uh, please trust me when I say I don't know what the Task Force."

They stare.

They then turn and whispered to each other. Seriously, what the hell is this 'Task Force?' Why do they think I said something about it? I was just looking at the TV when... when I think I heard someone say something about it, actually. But that couldn't have been me, though, right? I looked down at my toes again. I should find some socks. My feet are cold.

The two men turned around and out their gazes on me once again. Aizawa scratched the back or his neck. "If you're both telling the truth, then I don't get how you could know. Unless you aren't telling the truth. Which is why," he points to Matsuda, "I've felt that, now, it's probably best to keep you under close watch here. Either one of you are lying, or you know something. Both ways would require us to have to watch over you closely. But, hey, nothing personal! You may have just said something that came to mind without realizing it. That happens with amnesia cases a lot. The question is, why would you 'remember' the Task Force?"

I slowly nod. Makes sense. Why WOULD I know about their Task Force deal? When will anyone actually tell me what it is?

"Uh," Matsuda started, "do you know anything else?"

I shake my head. "Really, though, what is the Task Force?"


End file.
